


A Torturous Life

by peace_will_win_and_fear_will_lose



Series: Life's Struggles [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The others are there, author needed to vent, but it's mostly Lance, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peace_will_win_and_fear_will_lose/pseuds/peace_will_win_and_fear_will_lose
Summary: Life. Such a trivial word. So fragile, so meaningful, yet to a certain blue paladin, so torturous.---aka Lance really needs a hug, and i really want a hug too, but my dog doesn't like when i try to hug him.





	A Torturous Life

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to get my thoughts and feelings out in a non-self-damaging way, so this story was born. I know I write Lance too much, but for me, he's the easiest and most relatable one to write. So, sorry for this trash. I promise to try to work on my other fics soon.

     Life. Such a trivial word. So fragile, so meaningful, yet to a certain blue paladin, so torturous. Life meant he had to carefully craft the masks he wears, making sure he doesn't slip up and let anything out. 

     But it hurt. The cracks meant for his mask, designed to let others in, ended up on his soul, the pain overwhelming. Whenever the cracks grew to be too much to handle, a knife, coated in red, would transfer the pain to his arms.

     Red would yell at him to stop, but he pushed her down, along with the emotions left in his soul. 

     Battles came and went as the damaging cycle continued. The others never noticed, never looked close enough to see the void in his once vibrant eyes or the small slip in his smile. A smile here, a quip there, and no one has cause to think twice. 

   So, his knife was his only comfort-his only weapon against the feelings and memories that threatened to drown him. Sometimes even that shine of silver wasn't enough. Sometimes he just stood in his room and yelled, sobbing, until his throat ran raw. If the others heard anything, they didn't say so.

     Red begged and demanded for him to tell someone, to get help, to stop, but she was pushed down again and again. Eventually, their bond was reduced to close to nothing, and forming Voltron proved impossible.

       Shiro tried to discover what was causing the blockage, but no one could have inferred what was truly happening. All they saw was a flirty teen, who didn't understand the true pressure the war placed on them. 

      They couldn't be farther from the truth. The pressure had been the cause of most of the cracks plaguing their teammate. He knew that the universe was counting on them. He knew his team was counting on him. He tried to be what they needed him to be, but every time, he came up short of his standards. 

    His mind mocked him, ridiculed him, taunted him. He was a terrible pilot. He was annoying. He was dumb. He was a bad shot. He was alone. He was a burden. He was useless.

       Red did her best to dissuade his thoughts, but she could only do so much. She was, after all, only a mechanical lion, built for battle and destruction. Her paladin needed a person, a truly living being. But no one could see. No one could see the damage inflicted on her precious boy. So, she howled, and cried, and whimpered for the pain he felt. The pain she felt for him. 

  Eventually, it got to be overwhelming. It felt as if his chest was being torn apart by invisible claws attached to his very heart. He cut and cut, sobbed and sobbed, but nothing would sooth his anguish. He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop. The noise was too great, the silence overwhelming. He needed life to stop. 

     His knife stopped it. His mask fell away. The cuts on his arms stopped stinging. The noise stopped. The silence ended. Lance fell into darkness and light, his hated life falling away from him. It all just stopped. For him. 

       Red howled in her hangar, her anguished cry echoing throughout the castle. The Paladins and their trusted adviser awoke and frustratedly stomped over to investigate the cause of the lion's uproar. Finally, someone suggested they check on her paladin, who had not yet emerged from his room. What they found crushed team Voltron. They had never known, never seen. Now they now; now they see; now it's too late.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the spacing is all weird. I typed this on my phone, and for some reason it never comes out right when i do that.  
> To be honest, I was going to have them find out and comfort him, but I just didn't feel like that was what needed to happen. I guess it didn't seem right.  
> I don't know. you guys can pretend that they got him in a healing pod and saved him and they all helped him feel better and stuff if you want.


End file.
